Quiet
by GeekMom
Summary: Kate was enjoying a respite. Coffee in hand. Early morning. No one else was up yet. It felt good to breathe and concentrate on herself, enjoy her coffee without running anywhere. No one needed her to be anywhere, no smiles for the cameras, not hanging on anyone's arm. She would not trade her life for anything, but since he asked and she said yes, her life had been a whirlwind.


**A/N Just liked this idea and needed to get it down. One shot. Thanks for reviewing.**

**Thanks to the rightful owners - Mr. Marlowe & Company**

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Quiet.

Kate was enjoying a respite. Coffee in hand. Early morning. No one else was up yet. It felt good to breathe and concentrate on herself, enjoy her coffee without running anywhere. No one needed her to be anywhere, no smiles for the cameras, not hanging on anyone's arm. She would not trade her life for anything, but since he asked and she said yes, her life had been a whirlwind.

She heard noises from the bedroom. He was up. She braced herself, because he did not just get up. He greeted the morning as if he had never seen one before. He was out of bed excited to be alive. She really could not fault him for that, but it was exhausting. She gulped the dregs of her cup down and stood up to fix him some breakfast. Rest time was over.

Kate had several errands to do on this hot, sticky, New York summer day. She was out and being pulled along in seven different directions. How had she described him all those years ago: a nine year old on a sugar rush? How appropriate. He tugged her to the dry cleaners, the shoe repair, the post office; it didn't matter where they were going, it was an adventure and he experienced everything as if it were the first time. He would smile at children, flirt with the women and pretend that the men were spies. His blue eyes darted from person to person. She honestly didn't know where he got the energy. He hadn't had any sugar. She was paying for her stamps and he was already headed out the door. She balanced her bundles and followed.

"Let's go to the park. We haven't visited the swings in a while."

She smiled. The swings were special. "Okay, but remember, we need to get to the bookstore by lunchtime." He smiled; she mentioned two of his favorite things; books and lunch. He took her breath away; he looked at her with such love. She reached over and smoothed his dark hair off his forehead, his bright blue eyes shining with gratitude. They made it to the park. He saw some friends and sauntered over to them: mister cool. She was able to catch her breath. She sat down on the bench and watched. She loved watching him; he was so easy going with people. He had a habit of falling in and out of conversations effortlessly. He was a good at it. He wanted, actually needed, to know about people. He couldn't get enough information. He was curious by nature. She glanced at her watch. It was a fifteen-minute walk to the bookstore and they had an appointment. She found him on the swings and sat down next to him. He smiled at her and her heart melted, again.

"We need to go." He frowned for a split second and then jumped up.

"Okay, let's go." His enthusiasm spiked by the promise of another activity and adventure.

They walked hand in hand to the bookstore. She knew he would leave her as soon as they went inside. He would look at all the displays, meandering around until he found the table for the signing. That's exactly what he did: winding his way around, getting distracted by a new book or display. She had to call him back several times as they made their way to the table. There were already numerous fans waiting for the signing to begin so they only had a few minutes. She had his hand now, turned around a shelf, and saw the table. It was stacked high with the latest. He was so blessed to be a beloved author; still turning out favored books. He wrenched his hand from hers and ran to the table.

Rick turned around just in time to catch the bundle of energy that was his son, Michael. Kate caught up as Rick and Michael were sitting. While Michael told his daddy of their adventures, she admired them. He was Rick's spitting image: not just his dark hair and sparkling blue eyes, but also his curiosity and energy.

"Hey."

They both looked up and smiled. Rick answered "Hey. It sounds like you've had quite a morning."

"Pretty normal, except I think there were more spies at the post office." She gestured to the fans, "It looks like you're still pretty popular." He grinned. It was true and he knew it. The ten years they had been married had only made him more. More loving, more appealing, sexier and the list went on.

"Thanks, Beckett." He smiled her smile; the one reserved for her, rather lop-sided but full of the love he felt for her and their life. "I have some bad news though, I shouldn't keep them waiting." He said waving to the crowd. "Do you mind if we postpone lunch?"

"Dad-ad-dy." Michael apparently minded. Rick lifted his son back onto his lap. He got down while his parents were talking and was using the table as a shelter against the rains of the Serengeti.

"Bud, you know that I would much rather spend all of my time with you, but see these people waiting?" Michael nodded. "They are the reason we get to play together. They buy my books and give me the time to spend with you and mommy and Alexis."

"Will they give you time for my baby sister?"

Rick smiled at him again, "Yup. So don't you think it would be okay to give them some time, too?"

"Kind of like a trade?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay. Can we get ice cream instead of lunch?"

"Absolutely." Michael stretched up, gave his father a hug and a kiss, and squirmed down. Kate caught his hand as he sped by. Rick had followed Michael to her.

"So, what do I get in trade for you missing our lunch?" She looked at him suggestively.

"Wow." He took a deep breath, "Anything you want, Mrs. Castle." He kissed her and then headed back to the table.

"I'll hold you to that." She grinned, leaned down to kiss Michael's hand and started for the door. She smiled when she heard, "Hi, thanks for coming out today. What's your name?"


End file.
